


Telling the Story of Tonight

by HistoricalTears



Series: Lams compilation [3]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - Titanic, Arranged Marriage, Artist!John, Character Death, F/M, M/M, we all know how titanic ended, writer!alexander
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-02-23
Packaged: 2018-05-21 14:20:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6054766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HistoricalTears/pseuds/HistoricalTears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Destined to marry a rich man, Alexander Hamilton despised his foster father’s decision of being engaged to some overpampered, rich, pompous idiot named Thomas Jefferson. As much as he hated the idea, he wanted to make his foster father proud. Upon boarding the Titanic from London to New York, Alexander meets a struggling artist named John Laurens who actually saved him from jumping off the ship. Love begins to spark in the air, but disaster also awaits.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Slowly Drifting

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a conversation from Tumblr user alexandorhamilton. 
> 
> A fic in which takes place in 1912, John is a recently disowned artist, and Alexander has a dream of being a writer. We know how Titanic ends.

**_February 1912_ **

“So we have an agreement, Mr. Jefferson?” Alexander heard the voice from his place in the hall. His foster father, George Washington, was a wealthy man, and he adopted Alexander when the boy was 13. Now, at the age of 18, Alexander was being forced to marry a much wealthier and older man named Thomas Jefferson.

“Yes we do, Mr. Washington,” said the pompous voice of Jefferson. “When do I get to meet my betrothed one?”

“Now, actually. He’s outside the room, in the hall, no doubt eavesdropping on our conversation.” Washington said. Alexander heard shuffling and footsteps towards the door. Quickly, the red-haired boy moved away from the door and over to the cushioned bench across the hall. He folded his hands over his lap and waited for his foster father to come out the room. The door opened, and Washington looked at Alexander. “Son, before you meet Thomas, I encourage you keep your opinions to yourself. No matter what he says, keep quiet.” About five seconds of silence and Alexander gave his foster father a nod. “Good, now come. He wishes to meet you.” Alexander stood up and followed Washington into the room.

Thomas waited for the two of them, and Alexander got a good look at him. He towered roughly over 6 feet, dark eyes sizing up the smaller man. Compared to him, Alexander was a puppy, small, fragile, can easily be broken. But Thomas sensed a sort of flare to his future bride ~~\---~~ groom? ~~\----~~ and it was something he did not want from his submissive “lover.” Still, he put on a charming smile, hoping to gain approval from George. “Alexander, this is Thomas Jefferson. Mr. Jefferson, my son, Alexander Hamilton.” There was that word again. _Son._ For some reason, Alexander always gets ticked off by that one simple word.

Thomas grinned and extended his hand to the teen. “Pleasure to meet you, Alexander. I look forward to our wedding.”

Alexander took Thomas’s hand, giving him a questionable look. “As yourself, Mr. Jefferson.” He spoke, tone professional yet polite. Alexander was a skinny boy, red hair, pale-ish skin, and a bit of freckles dusting his face. He was also under 6 feet, perhaps 5’5, very small. “I don’t suppose we’ll be boarding a ship to the states soon?” he asked, looking towards George.

“Patience, son. We board the _Titanic_ at the end of March to New York. Then, we’ll take a train to Virginia.” George announced.

The other two occupants in the room nodded. “Mr. Washington, please. Go back to your wife. I wish to get to know my betrothed.” Thomas suggested to George, who simply nodded. He turned and left the room to meet up with his wife, Martha. When he was gone, Thomas looked towards Alexander. “Let me set down a few rules. Rule number one, you’re going to stay silent unless spoken to. Rule number two, you must be obedient to me no matter what. Rule number three, you will not leave the bed until I leave, and you have to be in bed before I do. Once we’re married, you’re doing what most wives provide for their husbands: meals. Do I make myself clear?”

Alexander looked at Thomas, offended but also frustrated. “You will not order me around as if I am a slave! And what makes you think that I won’t be working as well? I won’t be sitting around like someone with no life!” He huffed and glared at Thomas. “I, unlike you, can write, and I plan on writing my way to college so that I may study Political Science.”

Thomas barked a laughed and he grabbed a fistful of Alexander’s red hair. “Listen to me, Hamilton. There is no way that writing will get you in this world. Unless you’re a journalist who can use yellow journalism properly, you won’t get anywhere in today’s society by _writing_.” Thomas hissed into Alexander’s face. He shoved Alexander back. “Now, those rules I told you? You’re going to respect them. I will do a lot of bad things to you that I won’t hesitate on doing.”

“Is that a threat, because I am not trembling in fear as you hoped for me to.” Thomas clenched his fists tightly then went closer to Alexander, until their chests were pressed up against each other. This time, Alexander cowered slightly at Thomas due to the height of the older man. Thomas received this satisfaction and smirked. A hand pressed itself against the younger male’s cheek, the thumb tracing his freckles.

“Oh, Alexander. Look how nice it is, being so civil, quiet, obedient, and polite to your future husband.” Thomas purred, his hand finding its way to the back of the boy’s head and grabbing his hair again. He gained a gasp from the boy and his smirk only grew. “Responsive to this? How scandalous of you!” he teased, seeing a blush form on the red-head’s face. “Oh, we are going to have some fun. And by we, I really meant me.”

 

 

**_March 30 th, 1912_ **

John Laurens and Hercules Mulligan walked with each other to a pub to grab a couple of pints. They were talking about personal issues, how John got disowned by his father for being gay. He was also told that he would never get anywhere in life if he keeps spending it on painting and drawing and stuff like that. However, he had a plan to prove those that doubted him wrong. With the help of his new friend, Hercules, they’ll be able to find a way to prove that art is a big career choice.

“So as I was saying, I think we should stow away in the _Titanic’s_ storage, y’know. Wait until we dock in New York, get off and find some apartments or something. The two of us, Herc. What do ya say?” the southern American asked his new friend, sporting a grin on his face.

“Alright now slow down with your ideas John,” said Hercules, “stowing away in a ship? Wouldn’t that be risky? We could get thrown overboard.”

“No no! Think about it. We have a bit of money! What we can do is combine our money and fold them in a specific way to make them look like we’re stacking on cash.”

Hercules looked at John with a confused look. Both of them entered the pub and they saw a crowd of people gathering around a table. Exchanging glances, Hercules and John went over to the table. Four men were playing a game of poker, and it seemed as though the two men who looked drunk were winning.

“Hey, we play winner.” John said, making the crowd look at him and Hercules. “I got this Herc.” He said. When they sat in front of the two men, John introduced themselves. “I’m John Laurens, this is my friend, Hercules Mulligan. We bet, in American money, $200. And what do you have to bet?”

“Two boarding tickets to the one and only _Titanic_.” The first man said. “Names Charles Lee by the way. Next to me is Samuel Seabury. Don’t cry when we beat you.”

John obviously didn’t take that so much as a warning. The two were drunk obviously, and they wouldn’t be able to keep track of the game and because of this, John pulled some tricks or two. Cheating as some people would call it, but he called this as an artist’s way of playing cards. A cocky man, John was, but nonetheless smart, seeing as he was pulling this obvious trick in front of two drunk men who are literally betting tickets to the most famous ship in all the Atlantic.

When John set down his royal flush of cards, he flashed a smirk to the other two whose eyes widened in complete shock. “Pleasure competing with you boys. But, we must be getting ready. I mean, the _Titanic_ awaits us.” John said in a cocky tone to Charles and Samuel, who were still in a state of shock.

Hercules collected their money and the boarding tickets and ran out the pub with John before Charles and Samuel could find out they cheated. “How in the world did you get away with cheating like that?” Hercules asked his friend.

“Simple.” John began to explain, “they were drunk idiots and I saw the opportunity.”

They both grinned at each other and rushed off. “Next stop, New York!” howled Hercules and they hurried to the lodging home they were staying in.

Little did John Laurens know, that as he boards the ship to New York, he’ll end up falling in love, hard.


	2. An Improper Meet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Titanic begins to board passengers in Southampton as it sailed from France. Poor Alexander was being mistreated by his fiancé, abused and touched inappropriately. April 7th marked the improper meeting of John and Alexander.

**_April 5 th, 1912_ **

A shine of light beamed into the cabin window of the ship. There was creaking along the floor as waves crashed against the sides of the vessel. Alexander shifted in bed, making a small noise; a sign that he was waking up. He opened his eyes and squinted at the brightness that beamed down on his face from the window. Blinking a couple of times to adjust to the lighting, Alexander brought himself to sit up but felt strong arms holding onto his waist tightly. Turning, he saw his fiancé asleep. The smaller man grumbled to himself and carefully pried Thomas’s arms from his waist.

Alexander slowly and quietly sat up from the bed and reached for his shirt. He threw it on and stood up from the bed and went to put his boots on. After glancing over at Thomas and making sure he wouldn’t stir awake, the red-head quietly shuffled out the cabin and rushed out onto the deck and into the cold spring morning. The mist of the ocean sprayed onto the deck as the ship sailed.

Land could easily be seen from the bow of the ship. Alexander ran a hand through his wavy red hair and let out a sigh. There were bruises along his arms, neck, and sides that he desperately covered up with long sleeved shirts and a scarf to hide the fact that Thomas beats him so much.

“Hamilton!” growled the oh-so familiar voice of Thomas, who stormed out to the deck and grabbed Alexander’s arm harshly, causing the smaller boy to wince in pain as pressure were applied to his bruises. “Why did you leave the cabin without me?” Thomas hissed into Alexander’s face, who merely struggled to get Thomas to let go. “Answer me when I’m talking to you, Hamilton.”

“I just needed some fresh air, I wasn’t feeling okay!” he snapped but immediately regret that gesture as a hand came into contact with his cheek, causing his head to snap to the side. A red mark quickly formed on the spot he was slapped and he placed a hand on his cheek. Alexander felt tears brim his eyes and he looked at Thomas.

Thomas looked at his pathetic fiancé and scoffed. “You had it coming, Hamilton” he said. “Come on, we’re docking soon and stepping off to take a tour of London. Washington wants us to have some…. _bonding_ time for the five days we’re here before sailing off to New York.” The taller man snaked an arms around Alexander’s waist, a hand caressing the reddening cheek of the 18-year-old.

“….okay.” Alexander said softly, avoiding Thomas’s gaze.

“Now, while we’re in London, act like you love me. No matter what.”

 

 

As the ship docked in Southampton and began boarding a couple of more passengers for the trip to New York, Thomas and Alexander began to wander around the city, getting a lodging home to stay in. Thomas had run into a friend of his, a fellow Virginian, James Madison, who was to soon board the ship to New York as well.

“James! My good ‘ole friend.” Thomas beamed. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“It’s nice to see you again Thomas.” James said with a sincere smile. “And what have you been up to?”

“Well, I’m finally leaving France to go back to Monticello. I’ve been given a fiancé as well. Alexander, be a darling, come over here and meet my friend, James.”

Alexander looked at his fiancé and let out an inaudible sighed, before walking over to the two Virginians a couple feet away from him. He put on a fake smile as he went to Thomas’s side. James observed the slightly taller man and nodded.

“James, this is my fiancé, Alexander Hamilton. He’s Washington’s adopted boy, the one we’ve been hearing about in the papers so much.” Thomas hinted, wrapping his arm around Alexander’s body and bringing him close. “We’re getting married in a month from today, isn’t that right darling?”

“Oh….uh yes. We are definitely getting married. Though, at the rate the _Titanic_ sails, we’d be having the wedding in 2 months.” Alexander stating, though regretting his choice of words as he felt Thomas squeeze harshly but not visibly, on his side. “But… I wouldn’t know” he corrected himself. He glanced up at Thomas who was glaring down at him but quickly changed to a smile.

“My, isn’t Alexander something to cherish? He really does have a way with words.”

“I suppose you’re write, Mr. Jefferson. Now, I must go. I will see you on the 10th however!” James said to Thomas, beginning to walk off and waving a farewell to them.

Thomas immediately pulled Alexander to an alleyway. “What the hell was that? All I told you to do is stay silent or agree. I don’t want any more words coming out of your mouth for the rest of the time here.”

 

 

 

**_April 7 th, 1912_ **

On this particular morning, Alexander was sent to the market place to gather food for breakfast on Thomas’s behalf. He honestly hated the way Thomas treated him, but, if he were to make Washington happy, he might as well take this self-sacrifice.

While at the market place, Alexander bought the necessary ingredients his fiancé had asked for, when suddenly, he collided with a man who was running with papers in his hands. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” Alexander apologized, quickly getting up and helping the man he ran into with the papers. “I didn’t see you running. I hoped I didn’t ruin anything.”

The young man, about 21 years old, looked up from his place on the ground. He rubbed his head and adjusted to the image in front of him. He saw a very young man, short, with red hair, offering a hand to help him up. He took the man’s hand and got up. “Thank you. And don’t worry about it. These were all works from before.” He said and smiled. John Laurens, the artist, couldn’t believe how beautiful the red-head was. He was going to take a mental picture of him, and hopefully, in the near future, remember him and draw him. He looked at his pocket watch (which he stole from his father) and cursed silently. “I have to get going. I’m meeting a friend by the docks.” He said.

“Oh, sorry to hold you up. Here’s your drawings and sketches.” Alexander said, handing the stack of papers to the frantic artist. The artist began to run away as he took the drawings. Alexander bent down to collect the basket he had dropped when he saw a drawing left behind. “Hey! You left one!” but the man was out of earshot. Alexander looked down at the paper and picked it up, seeing that it was a landscape drawing. He smiled softly. “You’re a good artist, stranger,” he whispered and began to walk back to the lodging he and Thomas were staying.

Alexander stored the drawing into his coat pocket and entered the room. “Took you long enough to get back,” said Thomas with a sneer. “What happened that held you back in the market?”

“I… um… I ran into someone and his papers scattered. I only helped him. Besides, I’m only 3 minutes late.” Alexander said, voice hushed however. He feared that if he slipped up, he’d get another beating from Thomas.

However, Thomas only looked at the boy’s slim and delicate frame, and he hummed knowingly. “Fine. You’re off the hook this time, Hamilton.” He said. “Put down the basket and take off your coat,” came the demand that caused Alexander to obey immediately. He was already missing the unknown artist even if they barely spoke and only ran into each other for a minute. He felt as though he was nicer, gentle, someone he would be worthy to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So things are beginning to develop! Alex and John had an improper meeting but the next chapter, things will escalate! I'll try and post chapters daily!


	3. A Slip Was All It Took

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John didn’t know what love was until he ran into Alexander at the market place in Southampton on his way to meet up with Hercules by the dock. Taking a mental picture of the red-headed beauty, John had hoped that fate would bring them together.

**_April 7 th, 1912_ **

The morning, in John’s defense, was pretty cold for spring. Usually, Spring in South Carolina were a bit warmer than in Southampton, not that he minded however. He never understood the weather. John was wearing a light coat and a scarf thrown around his neck, running through the market with sketches and drawings in his hands. He had come from a nearby park, sitting atop of a hill and sketching out the people below him, but as he checked the time, he realized he was late. Late for a meeting with Hercules and a man Hercules knew that’ll get them a good cabin as they board the ship in 3 days.

The market wasn’t nearly as crowded as usual but it was something that was difficult to run in. And just as he thought that, John collided into another person, causing them to drop their basket and his drawings to fall out of his hands. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” said the voice of the person John came in contact with. “I didn’t see you running. I hoped I didn’t ruin anything.”

John looked up to see a hand offering to help him up, and then he looked up at the person. The young man in front of him looked absolutely stunning, even though he was wrapped up in a thick coat and scarf. “Thank you. And don’t worry about it. These were all works from before,” he lied as he took the stranger’s hand and was helped up. John observed him some more, taking a mental picture of the boy’s red hair, soft hazel eyes, faint freckles, and rosy cheeks from the cold. Snapping out of his trance, John looked at his pocket watch and saw that he was running even later than anticipated. He cursed and then said “I have to get going. I’m meeting a friend by the docks,” to the shorter boy.

“Oh, sorry to hold you up. Here’s your drawings and sketches.” The beautiful boy gave him back his drawings and John quickly said ‘thank you,’ before continuing on to the docks.

He swore to himself, cursing, for forgetting to ask the boy’s name and wondering if he’ll be able to see him again. John hoped and prayed that he’d see the red-headed man on the ship to New York. But for now, all he can do is just talk to his friend about him. “Herc!” he called as he arrived at the dock. He easily spotted the equally tall man from where he stood with another person who he presumed was the Marquis de Lafayette. “Ah, you must be the Marquis de Lafayette, yes?” he asked as he walked to Hercules and the other person.

“ _Oui,_ but do just call me Lafayette. And be sure to use the pronouns they and them,” they explained. “It’s just how I identify myself.”

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” John responded with a grin.

“So Lafayette was just telling me that there were some cabins available in the upper decks that he is able to provide us once we head for New York.” Hercules explained to John. “That is if he could talk to a friend of his, another rich man who’s actually from Virginia.”

“Thomas says he’s from Virginia but I always see him around France. Makes me wonder why he’s never there.” Lafayette said. “I have to talk to him soon, and hopefully when he’s not busy. 2 months ago, he just announced of his engagement to the son of another noble.”

“Yeesh, I hate to be the one to piss off your acquaintances.”

“ _Non,_ Alexander is a little lion. Sure, he has his way of words but he is somewhat of a shy boy.” Lafayette said, but they saw that Hercules and John were giving him confused looks. “Alexander is Thomas’s fiancé.”

Both John and Hercules nodded in realization, no longer confused. “We’ll we get to meet this Thomas and Alexander?” Hercules asked.

“Oh well of course, _mon amis_. Perhaps at the engagement party you’ll meet everyone.”

“Party? Well, I’m all up for that!” John said with a grin, though he wasn’t prepared to meet rich, pompous idiots if they’re anything like his father.

 

 

**_April 8 th, 1912_ **

“Lafayette, honestly, I don’t think _Jefferson_ will listen to me if I ask him to allow a cabin to your friends,” Alexander spoke before bringing his glass of wine to his lips and taking a sip. “He’s not exactly trustworthy husband material at the moment.” The reply was more of a mutter than it was an actual statement directed to his non-binary friend.

“Oh but you have to at least start the conversation up tonight at dinner.” Lafayette begged. The two were currently sitting at a small table in a nearby bar close to the lodging home. Thomas was getting himself a drink, so the two began to have an idle conversation for once. “Come on, _petite_ lion!”

“I can try to start a conversation but you have to take over from there. I don’t need Jefferson to start questioning me.” Alexander said as he took another sip of his wine.

“Perfect! I won’t let you down Alexander!” Lafayette beamed, smiling at their small friend.

Thomas returned to the table with two shots of whiskey, taking a seat next to his fiancé. “What are you two talking about?” he asked in tone which caused Alexander to flinch slightly but fix himself.

“Oh… we were only talking about the wedding plans… _dear._ ” Alexander said, straining the word ‘dear’ in his sentence. “I hope it’s okay with you that we discuss it.”

“Well, if that’s the only thing you’re talking about, then I really do mind.” Thomas wrapped an arm around his fiancé’s waist and planted a kiss to his cheek. “So what were you guys talking about for the wedding, if I may ask?”

Alexander began to hesitate, gripping his glass of wine firmly but not hard enough to shatter the glass in his hands. He gazed over at Lafayette for help, and the other nodded. “We were talking about what types of flowers we should have. It is Spring, is it not?” they said, saving Alexander the struggle of coming up with an excuse to his abusive fiancé.

“Mhm, well that it is. But really, we should discuss all of that at the engagement party.” Thomas said, drinking his shot of whiskey before handing the other shot to Alexander. Hesitantly, Alexander took the shot of whiskey and downed it, feeling the burn course through his throat. He never really liked strong liquor, but if he dared questioned it, Thomas would snap and yell at him. A stupid reason to cause emotional abuse. But it happens.

 

 

Later that night, the three, plus George, had dinner at a nice restaurant outside of Southampton. They ate salads as they waited for the server to arrive with their main course. It was quiet so far. Alexander glanced over at Lafayette, who was mouthing to him ‘ _just start the conversation, lion_.’ He exhaled silently and set his fork down on his napkin.

“Lafayette, you told me that two of your friends will be boarding the _Titanic_ as well?” Alexander spoke up, looking over at Thomas who glared at him for a split second, only to drop the glare and looked at Lafayette.

“Ah, _oui,_ they got lucky enough to gain 2 tickets aboard.” They explained, grabbing George and Thomas’s full attention. “I’ve been meaning to ask you, Mr. Jefferson, if it’s okay with you. Can you maybe find an open cabin in the higher decks for them? They really do deserve it after all…. fighting in the Spanish-American war.”

“The Spanish-American war, you say?” George asked Lafayette, suddenly intrigued. “Well, then finding a cabin for them wouldn’t be hard, now would it, Mr. Jefferson?”

“Oh, well I suppose not. If they’re veterans then I can consult with one of the staff members, maybe the captain even. It is just two of them, right?” Thomas asked Lafayette, who nodded with a smile. “Then I’ll see what I can do.”

Alexander looked over at Lafayette and cracked a small smile. He’d do anything for his friend, even if it meant to talk with Thomas.

 

 

Later that night, Thomas and Alexander were getting ready for bed, Alexander already lying under the sheets. “So, when did you and Lafayette talk about their friends boarding.” Thomas spoke, causing his fiancé to look over at him.

“Back at the bar, when we were talking about the wedding.” Alexander lied, turning over to his side to face away from Thomas. He felt the other side of the bed sink down as Thomas climbed onto his bed.

“When we are sailing to America, no looking at other people. There will be consequences for that.”

“Yes sir,” Alexander said, rolling his eyes. A couple of hours into the night and Alexander found himself still awake. He stared up at the ceiling, pondering thoughts invading his head. _Why do I live this repetitive noble life? In St. Croix, I was nowhere near this noble. And now I’m stuck with this asshole for the rest of my life._

**_April 10 th, 1912_ **

Delighted cheers and people waving out in the deck as if their new lives awaited them. What made America so special? Well, if you were a high ranking noble, you’d be treated with respect. If you were starting a new career, plenty of jobs are out there for them but such little pay. Alexander felt so bad for those people struggling to make a career. Then he remembered that could’ve been him. Though, he didn’t feel very grateful that he was being raised in a noble family. He felt like he was cheating through the hard work he could’ve put up with.

The first night on the ship was filled with so many rich people in the restaurants, pampered and laughing at commoner troubles yet Alexander merely stared down at the plate in front of him. His hand was being held by Thomas, and the table were chiming along in laughter, making fun of the commoners in the lower decks.

Alexander, fed up with their pretentious laughter (no offense to Lafayette), released Thomas’s hand and threw his napkin down, standing up from the table. He quickly stormed out the restaurant, George and Martha looking towards him as he left. Martha looked at Thomas and Lafayette and sighed softly, drinking her wine. “We’re sorry. We’ve no idea what’s gotten into him.” George apologized, standing up to retrieve his adopted son.

“Allow me, Mr. Washington. He is my fiancé after all, I should go find him.” Thomas offered, setting his glass of wine down and walking out the restaurant.

Alexander was running to the stern of the ship, thoughts filling his head. _Nowhere near noble. Repetitive. Marrying an asshole. Living with an asshole for a husband._ What stopped Alexander was the railing of the ship that, once going over, you’ll die. He looked down at the fall and his thoughts filled his head. _Do it. You’re nothing but fake royalty. Taken because you had someone pity you._ These dangerous thoughts caused him to hold onto the post next to him as he climbed over the railing. He was a step away from death now, gripping onto the railing behind him desperately.

“Don’t do it,” a voice said from behind him.

Alexander looked and saw the artist he ran into (literally) a couple of days ago at the market. “Don’t come any closer, please.” He pleaded. The artist refused, extending a hand. “I mean it!”

The artist stepped closer, taking the cigarette from his mouth and throwing it overboard. “You wouldn’t do it.”

“How would you know?”

“Because you would have jumped by now,” the artist tells him, beginning to remove his coat.

“You’re distracting me. Go away,” Alexander demanded, his grip tightening against the railing, his knuckles going white.

“If you jump then I’ll have to jump in after you just to save you.”

“You’ll be killed.”

“I could swim.”

“The fall alone would kill you.”

“It’d hurt. I never said that it wouldn’t,” he said. Alexander looked down at the roaring waves. “You know, I’m more concerned about the cold than the impact.”

Alexander looked over at the artist before asking, “How cold?”

“Freezing, maybe a couple degrees over.” The artist tells Alexander. “You, uh….. you ever been to Wisconsin?”

“What?”

“Well they have some of the coldest winters there. My father and I… when I was younger, we’d go up there and go ice fishing. You know ice fishing is when- “

“I know what ice fishing is!” Alexander snapped.

“Sorry,” said the artist. “You just seem like an indoor boy to me. Anyway uh… I fell through some thin ice, and I’m telling you, water that cold…” he pointed to the water below them “like right down there, it hits you like a thousand knives stabbing you all over your body. You can’t breathe, you can’t think. ‘Least not about anything but the pain. Which is why I’m not looking forward into jumping in there after you. Like I said, I don’t have a choice.” He took his coat off again (when did he put it back on) “I guess I’m just hoping that you come back over the rail and get me off the hook here.”

Alexander didn’t stop looking at him, like he was charmed by the strange artist’s words. “You’re crazy!” he said instead, and looked back at the water.

“That’s what everyone says but… with all due respect, I’m not the one hanging off the back of a ship here. Come on.” He offered, trying to persuade Alexander to coming back over the railing and hopefully fall into his arms. “Give me your hand, you don’t want to do this.” Alexander saw the artist holding a hand out to him. One hand released the railing, shaking and taking the artist’s hand. Alexander slowly turned around to face the artist, who cracked a grin. “I’m John Laurens,” he introduced.

“Alexander Hamilton,” the red haired boy said softly. John took note that Alexander’s teeth were chattering, the cool breeze blowing on them.

“Can I call you Alex?” John asked with a smile. Alexander let out a pathetic laugh, for once actually smiling instead of putting on a façade. “Come on,” Alexander began to climb over the railing but slipped. He found himself dangling off the stern of the ship, only being held by John. “I got you don’t worry!” He called, but Alexander was screaming for help. He looked up at John with tear filled eyes as he was pulled up into the deck for safety. But one bad thing lead to another and Alexander felt himself slipping from John’s grip.

“Help me!” He called. His screams of help caught the attention of some of the crew.

“I’ve got you! I won’t let go!” John said.

“Please help me!”

“I won’t let go! Pull yourself up, come on!” John began to pull the red-head back onto the boat, Alexander helping by pulling his own weight. He grabbed onto the railing, struggling. “Come on. That’s right you could do it!” Words of encouragement were bringing Alexander to keep himself up.

Alexander leaped into John’s arms and the two fell onto the deck, John on top of Alex. The crew members ran to them, looking at the situation. They obviously thought that John was trying to throw Alexander overboard form the ship. “What’s all this?” asked one of the crew. “You stand there and don’t move an inch!” he ordered to John, pointing at him. John stood up, putting his hands into his pockets and looking at Alexander. “Fetch the master-at-arms!”

The next thing Alexander knew, he was seated on a bench nearby, a blanket wrapped around him. His foster parents, Lafayette, and fiancé came out to the deck and over to Alexander. The entire time, however, Alexander was looking at John.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah this was longer than usual. But now we got a proper introduction to our star crossed lovers.


	4. Beauty of the Lion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John discovers that the beautiful red-head from the market is engaged to Lafayette’s friend, Thomas. But it doesn’t stop John from trying to win Alexander over.

**_April 10 th, 1912_ **

Alexander was given a glass of water by his fiancé to refresh and calm down after the horrifying near-death experience. George and Martha were questioning the master-at-arms what had happened to their dear Alexander, and of course, because they came at a late time, they accused John for attempting to rape Alexander.

Lafayette, knowing their friend wasn’t like this, looked over at John and went over to him. “Let me talk to him for a second,” they told sailor and pulled John to the side. “ _Mon ami,_ what happened? Why are they accusing you?”

“They found us in an odd predicament,” John began to explain. “But the truth is I was trying to keep him from jumping off the ship.”

Lafayette let out a slight gasp and he looked over at Alexander, who was not making eye contact with Thomas. This was something that looked familiar to John; he remembered the way his mother looked when his father came home drunk (like how Alexander looked when Thomas stormed over to them), and the look he was seeing now was the same gesture his mother would give to his father when being questioned. Looking down, avoiding his gaze.

John came to the conclusion that Alexander might be abused by Thomas in more ways than physical. He looked back at Lafayette. “But I convinced him to come back over.”

“This is completely unacceptable,” Thomas snapped, causing everyone to turn to him. Thomas went over to John and grabbed him by the shirt. “What makes you think you can put your hands on my fiancé?”

“Thomas,” Alexander spoke up, trying to get Thomas to release John.

“What do you think you were doing?!”

“Thomas, stop! It was an accident,” Alexander went over to his fiancé, trying to pry him away from John. The blanket was still wrapped around his body.

“An accident?” Thomas asked in a low tone.

“It was. Stupid really. I was leaning over and I slipped. I was leaning far over to see the… uhh uhh,” Alexander traced his fingers in a circular motion.

“Propellers?”

“Propellers, and I slipped. And I would’ve gone overboard but, Mr. Laurens saved me and almost went over himself.”

Thomas looked closely at Alexander, believing his words only because they were in front of others. “He wanted to see the propellers,” Thomas told Martha and George, reassuring them.

The master-at arms looked at John. “Was that the way of it?” he asked him.

John looked at Alexander and the red-head gave him a look that said ‘just take the excuse.’ He simply nodded and said “Yeah, that was pretty much it.”

“Well the boy’s a hero,” George said, finally speaking up. “Good for you, son, well done. So, all is well, we should head back inside. The temperature is dropping,”

“Look at you, you must be freezing,” Thomas said as he rubbed Alexander’s arms in an almost affectionate way. “Let’s get you inside.”

“Perhaps a little something for the boy?” George asked Thomas.

Thomas looked at Mr. Washington, almost confused. Then he nodded, “Of course. I think a 20 should do it.”

“Is that the going rate for saving the man you love?” Alexander asked him, giving him a challenging stare.

“Alexander is displeased, what to do? I know,” He went over to John, who was putting his coat back on and watching the two’s quiet exchange. “Perhaps you could join us for dinner tomorrow evening. Our engagement dinner. To regale our group with you heroic tale.”

John looked between Thomas, George and Lafayette. “Sure. Count me in,” he said though his voice was almost peaked with suspicion rather than interest.

“Good, it’s settled then.” Thomas said, giving a fake smile to John. He turned and started walking back to Alexander with George next to him. “This should be interesting.”

The nobles turned and left the deck to go back inside. John watched them then looked at the master-at-arms, whistling to grab his attention. “Can I bum a smoke?” he asked. The man nodded and gave him a cigarette, to which John accepted and began to light.

“You might want to tie those,” the master-at-arms says to John, pointing to his untied shoelaces. “It’s interesting. You had time to remove your coat and shoes as the man slipped.”

 

 

 

In Thomas and Alexander’s cabin, the two were getting ready for a night’s rest. Alexander was silent as he dressed for bed, releasing his wave of red hair from its ponytail. All he could think about when he went inside was John. John, who saved him from jumping off the ship. John, who drew landscape beautifully. John Laurens. Alexander felt a strange feeling. Love, is what it was. He was falling in love with the man who saved him.

Thomas entered the bedroom, shutting the door. His face went from stoic to furious as he looked at Alexander. “What did I say?” Thomas snapped, earning a scared look from Alexander. “I told you not to speak the entire time we are here. What do you do? You speak up, making yourself sound foolish as ever” Thomas grabbed Alexander by the arm and threw him on the bed. “You just don’t know when to listen,” he hissed, seeing Alexander tear up and holding back a sob. “What? No smart remarks? No pleas of forgiveness? Just as I thought. A pathetic, Creole bastard, you are. If it weren’t for the fact that Washington is a powerful man, I would’ve done horrible things to shame you.”

Looking down at the pathetic sight in front of, Thomas scoffed at the way Alexander shook under him. He got off the smaller person. “Get up,” he ordered. Alexander hesitantly sat up on the bed, wiping his tears and glaring at Thomas. He then stood up. “You continue to disobey what I request,” came a growl. Alexander felt his fiancé’s lips on his shoulder – when did his night shirt get remove? – and then felt the pain of Thomas biting his shoulder. He let out a cry in pain but it was silenced by a hand to his mouth. Thomas pulled away, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth with his free hand. “You deserve this, Alexander. For disobeying what I ask.” Alexander felt Thomas’s hand slap his cheek, and the next thing he knew, he was on the ground. A kick was delivered to his side.

Once the abuse stopped, Thomas climbed onto the bed, muttering curses at Alexander. The red-head boy slowly and carefully sat up, wincing at the pain in his sides. He grabbed his shirt and put it on, thanking God for not bruising his skin for just this once. Alexander got up and climbed into bed next to Thomas. He felt the strong arms wrap around his torso. “Tomorrow evening, you will be on your best behavior. I am fed up with you always disobeying.” Thomas said into Alexander’s ear. Alexander shivered and nodded.

“Yes, sir,” he said softly, feeling himself being pulled closer to Thomas. He began to think of John again, closing his eyes and picturing his face.

 

 

John was laying on the top bunk of the bed in the cabin he shared with Hercules. His sketchbook was out and he was sketching something. Wavy hair, light freckles, a soft genuine smile. He looked over the sketch and smiled, seeing Alexander on the paper. John had taken every picture in his mind of Alexander, beginning to memorize the delicate frame, the shaky voice. What John would kill to have the boy under him, kissing all over his neck and marking the skin. What John would kill to hold Alexander’s slim frame and claim him. John craved Alexander, craved every bit of him. All of him. He craved to be inside Alexander, hearing the pleasured noises the red head could possibly let out. He wanted Alexander all to himself, keep him. Hold him every night whilst whispering, ‘I love you, my little lion.’ John wanted Alexander, and Alexander only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I believe that last paragraph is what we all want from Alexander. I'm sorry for this disgusting sin but have it all. God, I'm going to hell for this.


	5. Draw the Ones You Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disobeying the rules Thomas gave him, Alexander meets up with John a couple of times before the engagement party. They sit down and talk, getting to know each other and slowly start falling more in love. Alexander begins to learn what true love actually is. John shows him. Shows him how a husband should treat their significant other. Shows him how to love; physically and romantically.

**_April 11 th, 1912_ **

A pencil scratched the paper of worn sketchbook, smudges plaguing the page. John was, once again, drawing out Alexander, unable to get over his red wavy hair and the beautiful hazel eyes. He dreamt of Alexander last night. “Damn, whoever that person is, you must be really in love with them, or they’re paying you to make them portraits,” said a voice about John and as he looked up, he saw Hercules standing above him.

“Herc, you should’ve seen Alexander,” John said, tone dreamy. “His hair was the brightest red I’ve ever seen, face dusted with freckles, beautiful hazel eyes that can melt even the iciest of hearts. And above all, he’s small and unafraid to speak his mind.”

“I’m gonna go get a mop.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re drooling on the deck,” Hercules joked and left his friend, hoping to meet up with Lafayette.

John shook his head and chuckled. He closed his sketchbook and tucked his pencil behind his ear. He turned quickly only to bump into his soulmate. “We’ve got to stop bumping into each other like this,” Alexander said playfully, voice ringing in John’s ears. “Oh well, there goes my shirt.”

John looked at Alexander’s shirt and saw that champagne spilled on it. “Oh god, I’m sorry.” He said, scrambling to grab a towel to clean him up.

“It’s fine, John. Honestly.” He said and giggled. “I’m sorry if I’m noticing late, but you have quite a southern accent.”

“Quite a southern accent? Well, dear Alexander. I was born in South Carolina. I tend to hide this southern drawl, but,” he took Alexander’s hand and kissed it “if you preferred to hear it, darlin’, I wouldn’t mind using it just for you.”

The drawl caused Alexander to flush a deep shade of red. He was rather attracted to the southern accent, which was something he’d never thought of. Thomas also came from the south, from Virginia, but never really like the way he used his drawl. Alexander wanted Thomas to shut up, like forever. However, he couldn’t do that knowing Thomas’s physical abuse. Biting his bottom lip, Alexander desperately wanted John to pin him down to the floor of the deck and take him, but he needed to keep to himself.

“I take it, you like the drawl?” John asked, flashing a smirk to him. “Why don’t we sit down and have little chat.”

“I would like that, Mr. Laurens,”

“Let’s not be so formal. No one’s around.” John said and lead Alexander to the lounge chairs. They talked for nearly the entire morning, until John pulled out his sketchbook. “I never really showed a lot of people this, mostly because I don’t like it when people look into my things, but you’re someone that I can show.”

Alexander looked at the sketchbook and opened it. “Wow,” he breathed, marveled by the artwork John could do with a single pen. “This is stunning, beautiful.”

John smiled, turning a couple of pages to drawing of children covered in dirt. “I was in Chicago a couple years ago and there were these orphan boys who took jobs in factories. I talked with a few of the older ones and they said that some of the kids died during work. It was pretty dangerous for them. I convince my fathers to at least help them have safer working conditions. But you know how wealthy people are. They’re – “

“- inconsiderate with their money and only care about equally wealthy people. I know how that’s like.” Alexander interrupted.

“What? I thought you were the son of Martha and George Washington.”

“Adopted. That’s something we don’t say to the public. I was 13 years old when they adopted me into their family after a hurricane destroyed my town in St. Croix.”

“You’re from the Caribbean?” John asked.

Alexander nodded. “We don’t really talk about where I’m from. It triggers a lot of memories that then leads to anxiety. I thought living with wealthy people would be a nightmare, but Martha and George are good people. Care a lot about children and they aren’t actually selfish with their wealth. If anything, Thomas Jefferson is a bastard to those not wealthy as he is.”

“Your fiancé? But I thought you loved him.” John said.

“Ugh, no. I’m only marrying him because I want to make George and Martha happy.”

John felt hope running through his chest, a chance of love prancing about for him. The two locked eyes before Alexander looked back at the drawings before they could even lean in. Alexander was awed by the drawings and sketches. “You have a gift, John Laurens. You definitely see something.”

“I see you,” he said, eyes kept on Alexander at all time. Finally, he was able to see Alexander for a long time, with nothing to interrupt him, nothing to stop him. “I know you wouldn’t have jumped.”

Alexander didn’t pry his eyes from the sketchbook for about 30 seconds before looking at John. “Thank you for saving me. I never said that.” He said, a small smile forming. “Truth is; I never would’ve jumped. I would’ve slipped. And if it wasn’t for you, Laurens, I could’ve died either way.”

John felt a smile creep onto his face and he held himself from smashing his lips into Alexander’s. He refrained. Unfortunately.

 

 

 

_My dear Laurens, how I crave for your lips upon mine, crave your body over my own, crave you. How I crave to have you inside me, to have you make me scream your name in utter pleasure. I wish, if it were my decision, I could say to you, I love you._

_-Alexander Hamilton_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, this chapter was short but I wanted Alex and John to have AT LEAST some communication!


End file.
